


For science

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Platonic Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m making research,” Courfeyrac said patiently, and with anyone else it’d have sounded ridiculous at best and like a pathetic excuse at worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For science

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy having Courfeyrac kiss people, what can I do. There are e/R undertones as well.

Grantaire couldn’t stop staring. He wouldn’t have stopped if a fire had broken down next to him right this instant, if Eponine’d come over and told him she and Marius were getting married, if Joly’d found a (legitimately sounding) proof that he had one of many dangerously sounding diseases he’d diagnosed him with.

He simply could not look away.

Courfeyrac’s right hand was resting on the back of Enjolras’ neck, his thumb making little circles just behind the ear. Enjolras, on his part, kept both of his hands firmly and only slightly awkwardly on Courfeyrac’s shoulders, his back one stiff line that was slowly easing itself into more relaxed state.

Also, they were kissing.

Honest to god  _kissing_ , with tongues very much involved, what was obvious to everyone who bothered to look (Grantaire did, Grantaire couldn’t  _not_ , but this had been already established).

There was a slight frown gracing Enjolras’ brow, like always when he was intently focusing on something important, but his eyes were closed. It made his face— different, somehow, made it seem younger, slightly helpless. Courfeyrac’s eyes, if one looked closely, were barely open; he kept looking at Enjolras from beneath his lashes, as if he didn’t want to miss a single thing. Grantaire could sympathize.

Grantaire, also, would very much like to know what the hell was happening here. Not that he thought Courfeyrac couldn’t kiss Enjolras (the kissing went more in Courfeyrac-Enjolras direction), he could kiss anyone he wished to, there was certainly no reason for him to _not_  kiss Enjolras (only,  _only_ …)—

Not that it wasn’t a nice view.

Hell, he could appreciate what he’d got, couldn’t he?

Courfeyrac’s eyes closed only when he started to pull away at last, and he took his hand from Enjolras’ neck as well. He seemed more contemplative and somehow detached than anyone after such a kiss had any right to seem. Before Enjolras managed to open his eyes, he leaned in to place one last closed-mouthed kiss on their leaders’ upper lip, so often curled up in distaste.

It was definitely not curled up now.

There was also a faint flush on Enjolras’ nose and, seriously, who even blushed there? It was entirely unfair. It was a flush meant to torment and torment it  _did_ , Grantaire thought only slightly bitterly, watching as Courfeyrac slapped lightly Enjolras’ arm in a friendly manner, and pointed at where Grantaire was sitting with a movement of his head.

Enjolras’ turned to him, and Grantaire hoped he didn’t look like he was gawking, even if he was still doing that anyway. (It was hard to even think  _stop stop stop_  when all his head was full of was  _what what_   _why_.) Especially when Enjolras gave a curt nod and moved further into his chair, his eyes never leaving Grantaire. If Courfeyrac didn’t place himself right in his line of vision, he wouldn’t even notice he came over.

“Ergh,” Grantaire said eloquently, trying to read something, anything from Courfeyrac’s face — but not from his raised eyebrows because they were raised at him and this was just, no. He didn’t deserve this, any of this.

“So.” Courfeyrac mercifully left Grantaire’s newfound word without further comment. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

Grantaire made a sound again. He’d been apparently and probably reduced to communicating this way for the rest of his not making any sense life.

“I’m making research,” Courfeyrac said patiently, and with anyone else it’d have sounded ridiculous at best and like a pathetic excuse at worst. “You can read it later if you want.” He smiled in that way only he could, the left corner of his lips twitching up, making him seem indulgent and playful and entirely serious about what he was saying all at the same time.

The familiarity of it finally allowed Grantaire to break from whatever spell he was under. “You want to tell me you’re kissing people for  _science_?” And, there, he made it sound just perfectly. If Courfeyrac had been a lesser man, he’d have blushed.

“Well,” his friend said instead, his hand twitching as if he stopped himself at the last moment from mentioning to the back of the room. Grantaire was very keenly aware of who was still sitting there. “I actually do. And it works, doesn’t it?”

Grantaire didn’t have much of an answer to that. In return, Courfeyrac didn’t say anything after he’d been kissed deeply and desperately, as if Grantaire was trying to chase some taste left in his mouth.

(But he did take notice of it, as well as of Enjolras’ still present blush after the kiss with Grantaire was over and done with, even though Enjolras seemed engrossed in his book at the time.)


End file.
